


He's a dark familiar stranger (but that's the danger)

by Gingersnaps (K___P)



Series: Not-so-traitor traitor Wilbur fics [2]
Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Angst, Gen, Hurt No Comfort, Minecraft but it's raining tnt, One Shot, Snapshots, Traitor Wilbur
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-15
Updated: 2020-10-15
Packaged: 2021-03-07 22:20:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,261
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26995078
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/K___P/pseuds/Gingersnaps
Summary: To be fair, he should've seen this coming.Still, Wilbur thinks as he watches the sky fall, at least he was right.OR: the one where wilbur and schlatt go on a trip after pissing off a god or two, and all round just vibe til they dont
Relationships: Jschlatt & Wilbur Soot, No Romantic Relationship(s), Wilbur Soot & Phil Watson
Series: Not-so-traitor traitor Wilbur fics [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1971445
Comments: 15
Kudos: 192





	He's a dark familiar stranger (but that's the danger)

**Author's Note:**

> Some low quality snapshots that really don't live up to the other one hsjdhejswakdb
> 
> Anyway this is started out kinda general but devolved back into my au bullshit 😔 I'm sorry I'm a sucker for angst  
> How did I write 3.5k+ words of fluff then pull this

In another life, he has _definitely _done something to piss off a god or two. Maybe a whole pantheon, if he's feeling arrogant.__

__All Wilbur is sure of is that somewhere between the agonising heat of lava and the suffocating pressure of water, the wars and the dragons and the everything afters ... He deserves a day off._ _

__Sadly, today is not that day. Across from him, Schlatt is staring at him with the most bewildered expression imaginable. It's a fair reaction, considering what just happened._ _

__"...So the sky's falling."_ _

__"Looks that way."_ _

__"And this is your fault?"_ _

__"Gonna assume so."_ _

__"And now I have to deal with this shit too."_ _

__"I mean," Wilbur shrugs, turning back to his task of punching wood, "you said you wanted a trip, right? Like, away from everything else, just a bit of bonding time. Well, here you go!"_ _

__"...right."_ _

__\---_ _

__The first night, they make a small burrow in a hill near the forest, huddling together as the sun sets. Soon, the only light they can see through the clouds is that of the explosions. With every detonation that shakes the ground, Wilbur jumps, reminded all-too-clearly of the Before, of pushing an apex predator too far._ _

__Before, Schlatt would've elbowed him with a grin, teasing him about if he needs to " _hold my hand, Wilbur? Are you too scared to handle the big bad explosions? Huh_?". He would've poked at him, but ultimately lean against him, providing whatever comfort he could give._ _

__During, Schlatt would've pushed him out into the explosions without a second thought, grin almost splitting his face in two. He would've taunted him, taking all of his hard work and then leaving him out to die._ _

__Now ... Now, Schlatt said nothing, frowning absently at the sky. His slitted pupils were unfocused yet heavy, horns flickering in the flashing lights. There were no words exchanged between them, and yet Wilbur felt an arm wrap around him after a particularly violent flinch._ _

__They don't bring it up the next morning, back to sniping at each other with bright grins._ _

__Wilbur doesn't think about the worlds he's left behind, nor does he about the people._ _

__\---_ _

__"Wilbur, what in the absolute fuck is that." Schlatt's voice is dull, worn down from dodging explosions and screaming just to be heard._ _

__"It's our house, Schlatt." He doesn't look up from where he's fitting the door into a frame, grumbling as he fiddles with the hinges. He'd been able to do this perfectly, once upon a time, after he'd been shown a trick by T-_ _

__He'd been able to do it perfectly once, but what's the fun in doing everything right first time? Besides, it's funny to watch the self-proclaimed business man struggle with everyday tasks. Brings a smile to his face in an otherwise hopeless situation._ _

__(They don't talk about the cracked portal, just barely holding onto its last legs. They don't talk about the likelihood that only one of them can travel through it before it breaks completely._ _

__They don't talk about it, because they know the outcome already. Wilbur is already gearing up for it, but he's desperate to enjoy this time in the Before.)_ _

__"It's ugly as shit, Wilbur."_ _

__"I know that, Schlatt."_ _

__\---_ _

__He hands Schlatt a sword, not as high-quality as their others, maybe, but still pretty damn good. Wilbur's had a lot of time to practice makeshift tools, while Schlatt is ... Schlatt. He's seen him in action with the shittiest swords known to man, and so long as he has two of them, he's practically invincible._ _

__They agree on Blades, Wilbur snickering as he boxes the other in, hastily scribbling notes to stick onto the wall to keep him from moving._ _

__The fish-eyed stare he receives makes it all feel a little more worth it._ _

__\---_ _

They get a nice little place going, house shoddily repaired every other day. They'd brought enough food with them to last a week or so, though there was always the pig population to decimate if things got dicey.

(Wilbur didn't think about his brother at home, not until he was staring up at the darkening sky on the last night.)

The constant explosions open up cave systems, interconnected and haunting and absolutely _freezing_. Wilbur scoffs at Schlatt, flexing his soft yellow jumper, neck and wrists cinched snugly. Schlatt, of course, had gone on a rant about proper workplace atire and threatened to have Wilbur sacked.

Bright grins were exchanged as the two of them separated off into the mines, silently praying for the border to keep out, for them not to get trapped in. Right before they split, Schlatt had clapped his hand on his left shoulder, face twisted momentarily into something unreadable.

The moment was over in a flash, and they spent a good few hours mining away, taking turns to sneak off and hiss at the entrances to tunnels, gliding across the floor like a slithering snake. Without the constant explosions shaking the earth, it felt peaceful, like he was simply gathering resources with a friend.

Then the mines became lit with the familiar red-tinged glow of the border. Schlatt raced out of there, Wilbur hot on his heels.

They didn't go mining again.

\---

Now, Wilbur doesn't think he's a bad person. Far from it; he's a lovely guy, an absolute pleasure to be around. People love him! He's a charming smooth-talker with a heart of _gold_.

But if he's enjoying watching Blades struggle against four fully-grown zombies, one baby zombie, two skeletons, and a spider, sue him. The speed at which the cockiness had dropped from his face would've shocked him, but, then again, the other had also just been hit by an iron shovel.

And so, Wilbur watched from the safety of their house, calling out encouragements and jeers in equal measure. Blades turns back to look at him, once, grin triumphant and bordering on ecstatic. Wilbur flicks his eyes towards the spider crawling rapidly towards the other, smile amicable and easy.

Needless to say, Blades grumbles at him for the rest of the night as he bandages the wounds.

\---

__One of these days, Wilbur needs to stop giving Schlatt the high ground. It's becoming a common variable in every one of their little "trips", and so far they've ended in disaster._ _

__\---_ _

How does he always end up here? This situation is becoming disturbingly familiar, feeling exacerbated by the recent wars. Chilling laughter grated on his nerves, refined and explosive in a way that the chuckles of the week past never were. 

He couldn't even bring it in himself to muster up betrayal or shock, just muted resignation and a bitter anger. Wilbur wasn't sure if this was better or worse than the slow-rising, almost inevitable deaths of their other "games". He didn't like to think about them.

(He was starting to forget the finer details; he'd asked Phil once, after the first time, if memories were affected by deaths. Hypothetically, of course.

Phil had looked at him, sea salt permanently ingrained in his hair, terrified of even hearing rain on water, zoning out every few minutes, and understood. He'd looked so sad, so heartbroken, that Wilbur had to look away.

"...yeah. The body will heal as best it can in the time you give it to respawn, but the trauma of the death can stop you from remembering the events leading up to it."

Wilbur had almost wanted to argue - sure, he'd died an awful, painful death, but it wasn't like it was anything bad, right? 

Phil had just looked so lost, though, that he'd stayed silent, nodding with a smile as he left the room.)

And so, all he could do was flop down on his tower's small platform, watching Schlatt's tower stretch higher and higher into the sunset. Schlatt himself had disappeared from view a long time ago, the only confirmation of his presence a steadily-growing stain against the dust-grey sky.

An odd feeling of peace began to settle over his chest, and so he leaned back on his elbows, eyes half-lidded as the searing light pierced his eyes. It seemed as if the sun itself was furious with him, blood-red and condescending.

Wilbur heard a soft hissing noise, blinking a little. He glanced back, in time to catch a glimpse of the Gods' handiwork.

That was, before the sky fell.

\---

__When he comes to, body aching and mind screaming, he doesn't see Schlatt anywhere. The portal lies, destroyed, in the centre of a ring of destruction. It takes him a second to process the sudden, crushing despair that threatens to choke him._ _

Gods, he'd been so- so stupid, and naive; of course Schlatt would take the first opportunity he could to get rid of Wilbur! Even if it wasn't permanent, he could still completely fuck over the SMP while he was gone, and the blame wouldn't even lie with him.

It would lie with Wilbur, idealistic and hopeful and stupid, for wanting to try and, what, convert Schlatt? Bring his old friend back? At the risk of those he had once called his family?

No wonder he had been punished by the Sky Gods.

His body aches, bone-deep and mind-numbing, seeping into his muscles and seizing them up. He struggles to drag himself forwards, across craters and ponds and exposed caves, trying desperately to reach the portal. He knows a thing or two about repairing them, given his tendency to be ... left behind.

Left arm, right arm. Burns, bruises. Left leg, right leg. Cut, cramped. He runs through a checklist in his head, Phil's words hammered into his head. _assess any damage first; act accordingly._ Even after his respawn (his death, again, what would Techno say? What would Tommy say? What would _Phil_ say-?), he was feeling the consequences of the explosions, which meant his time was running out here.

He has to leave this world before he _can't_ , before the anger of the gods brings the sky down crashing around him. He has to leave, has to return to Tommy and Tubbo and Techno and the rest, has to go work with (under, for) Schlatt.

(Has to look him in the eyes and smile and laugh and pretend he doesn't remember the manic grin on his face as he builds his tower, leaves Wilbur stranded.)

First things first, he needs supplies to repair the portal. From what he can see, it's very similar to an end portal, laid out the same and with the same endless magic pervading the very air around it. Annoying, but he and Schlatt had left home overly prepared.

Deep down, they both knew this was how it would end. It was how it always did, no matter how much he tried to convince himself that this time would he different. That this time he'd changed.

But he would always be the cocky young upstart, would always pose a threat to Schlatt in business and in politics. It was why they had worked so well together in the Before - they understood each other in a way nobody else could hope to replicate.

After their separation in the Floods, he'd felt a hollowness in his chest, bitter and angry and maybe a little too power-obsessed. When he and Schlatt met again on the SMP, he could barely contain his excitement - he'd all but forgotten the terror of the Floods, of the sharp, barked orders, and it had seemed like Schlatt had too. It felt like he could breathe again.

But then Dream banished his only lifeline to a muddy past, and Wilbur had grown bitter.

His hand knocked against burning heat, the sudden burst of pain jolting him back to his senses. Blaze rods sat tucked away neatly in a pocket, almost impossible to see. Of course.

He hadn't actually checked the supply bag beforehand, but it was likely that Schlatt would've taken him as far as they could get before outright killing him. Maybe, though, there was a chance that he really did want to travel with Wilbur.

Either way, it was impossible to tell now; who knew how long they'd been gone from the SMP? Time flowed differently on different worlds, after all...

Wilbur gripped a blaze rod between his hands, silently relishing in the warmth it gaze to his frozen fingers. He snapped it in half, blaze powder spilling out from the hollow gaps in the rods.

With an unearthly click sound, the portal sprang to life. Swirls of orange light, glowing softly in the explosion-torn wasteland, emanated from the portal's surface.

He stares into the portal, ears ringing from an explosion a little too close to him for comfort. All he has to do is light it up, hop in, hope the frame doesn't blow up and focus on where he wants to go. That's easy, right? 

...why's he so scared? Is he scared to go back to the SMP? Is he unsure of whether 'home' for him is Pogtopia ( _Tommy's glares and Techno's silences_ ) or Manburg ( _Quackity's pity and Schlatt's cackles_ )? 

Why is this a question for him? Why doesn't he _know_ this anymore?

He puts an end to that train of thought, not wanting to delve too deep into it. The light of the portal is already dimming; soon, he'll be forever stuck in a small, resourceless wasteland, eternally locked in with the Sky Gods' fickle anger.

He takes a deep breath. He jumps in.

\---

It's only as his vision clears, green spots dancing in his vision, that he wonders when his idea of home changed from his brothers to Phil.

**Author's Note:**

> Me: this will b more light hearted  
> Schlatt and Wilbur: unable to go one joint video without killing each other  
> Me: h
> 
> Anyway I wrote this in two days so forgive me for any spelling errors etc!! M gonna go through it again when I'm not about to pass out from exhaustion
> 
> The next part is probably gonna be around the same length as this, I'm not sure, but it's gonna have the gang + Phil again so :}


End file.
